It's All About Amelia Pond
by thefevercalledliving
Summary: Amy and the Doctor have just come back from the Byzantium. The Doctor must sort through his thoughts to understand what Amy wants and why she's so important.


**I took a moment to write the entire scene from the end of Flesh and Stone (where Amy throws herself on the Doctor) from the Doctor's point of view, knowing what we know now. I was thinking that that scene meant so much more than the cracks in the universe. If the Doctor didn't get Amy sorted out, River wouldn't exist. He couldn't make the connection because there were just so many things going on, but there it is. It's not particularly well written, but what is there to expect from summerbraincrack?**

She had been talking about running away, and he knew that feeling too well - so well, that most of his running was now an attempt to forget the fact that he'd run away, and what had happened. But she must be talking about something else. She didn't know why he ran.

"I nearly died. I was alone in the dark and I nearly died. And it made me think," she said.

Well of course, loads of people think. No one quite thinks the way he does, a million thoughts a second. He would forget the moment he remembered and be remembering all the things he'd forgotten all in an attempt to form the thought that would eventually be spoken.

"Well, yes, natural. I think sometimes. Well, lots of times…," he replied.

There was a brief pause and in it he had enough time to think of those copper skies, and then the box and the running and the words BAD WOLF, but also a dog that wasn't a dog, and celery and jelly babies - or was it fish fingers?

"About what I want. About who I want. You know what I mean?" she said.

What? She was speaking again. Where had he been? What was she talking about? Where had this conversation started? Running. Right. But where was it going?

"Yeah… No," he was forced to confess.

"About who…I want," she said. She appeared to think she was being obvious.

"Oh, right, yeah… No, still not getting it," he replied.

Was he supposed to get it? How could he figure out what she meant when the crickets outside were being so loud and he couldn't help thinking about how _young_ she was - how young they all were compared to him. He wasn't really that old, but yes compared to them. All of them.

"Doctor, in a word, in one very simple word even you can understand…"

Good God what was she doing? She practically climbed on top of him. This wasn't right. That's not the way this story was supposed to go. It was supposed to be fun and adventures and shenanigans (lovely word, shenanigans) and running and solving mysteries - he just wanted a mate._"YOU WANT __**TO MATE**__?" "I JUST WANT __**A**__ MATE." "WELL, YOU'RE NOT MATIN' WITH ME, SUNSHINE."_ Stop it. Think. There was something else.

"Uh…! You're getting married in the morning!" Lame answer, but it worked with most humans. Marriage. No he wouldn't go down that road. Think about now. That's all that matters.

"The morning's a long time away. What are we going to do about that?"

Oh, she just didn't give up. What was _wrong_ with this girl? Amelia Pond. Little Amelia Pond. Fish fingers and custard Amelia. This was just wrong.

"Listen to me. I'm 907 years old. Do you understand what that means?"

He had resorted to the shock factor. Maybe that was the way to reason with this child. _"You will explain your presence and the nakedness of this child." "Are we in Scotland?" _No, go back. Back to what was happening.

"It's been awhile?"

_Yes_.

"No. No. No! I'm 907, and look at me. I don't get older, I just change. You get older. I don't, and this can't ever work."

"Oh, you are sweet, Doctor. But I really wasn't suggesting anything quite so…long term."

AMELIA POND. There she was on him again, messing with his suspenders. NO.

"But you're human! You're Amy! You're getting married in the morning," he figured he'd try that again.

He was getting desperate. In that small sentence though, in that time he had taken to breathe, there was something else. He'd had to deal with this sort of thing before, but this was something much worse. He could feel it. Time was in flux. Timelines were shifting, but not just objectively - _his own timeline was changing. _There was too much to focus on. He could somehow feel the universe blinking in and out of existence. Worlds collapsing, reforming, re-collapsing. The possibilities vanishing and also becoming infinite. A library. _4022 people saved. No, not saved. Yes, saved. But by him. He had died. No, not died. Someone saved him. Who? No one saved him. He was gone. He had failed to regenerate. No, handcuffs. Must it always end this way? Yes. No. Daleks. Cracks. Silence. No time. All the time in the world. All of time and space, but nothing too. Silence will fall, but it didn't have to. Planets missing. The reality bomb. 4022 people saved. No survivors. No survivors. The base code of the universe. _

"In the morning," he finished his sentence.

"Doctor?"

He must have had a strange look on his face, because she finally pulled back. He felt time moving back into its place, but not quite. Not completely.

"It's you. It's all about you. Everything. It's about you."

"Hold that thought!" she said as she jumped back on the bed.

There it was. Time shifted again and writhed and fell and rose. _Rose. My Rose._ He had to focus.

"Amy Pond… Mad, impossible Amy Pond. I don't know why, I have no idea, but quite possibly the single most important thing in the history of the universe is that I get you sorted out right now."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!"

"Come on!"

The most important thing in the universe was to get Amelia Pond out of this room and married in the morning. To what's-his-name. The nose boy. He would need to jump out of a cake, but it's not like it'd be the first time.


End file.
